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Full text of "NightRider"

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Then she told him: "I tried—I tried, Perse. But it's no

He said nothing.

" We can't be with each other any more. Not for a long
time, anyway. Or never."

"I love you," he said. He thought: love. The word
rattled in his head like a pea in a dried pod.

" It's not you," she answered.   " It's me, the way I am."

" I love you."

" We can't be with each other," she said; " it's too awful, I
can't stand it."

"All right," he replied. He knew a loathing, suddenly, of
himself for the emptiness of the act he had performed: a
vicious and shameful pantomime, isolated from all his life
before it and from any other life, cut off in time, drained of
all meaning, even the blind, fitful meaning of pleasure. He
was infected by her emptiness. Or her emptiness had dis-
covered to him his own. She had held it up to him like a
mirror, and in her emptiness he had seen his own. "All
right," he said.

The next morning she did not come down to breakfast.
He ate scarcely anything, hurried out to the stable and
saddled his mare, and rode off.

Three days later he received an answer to the letter which
he had written to May. But the answer was not from May.
It was from Miss Burnham. It ran:


" Yours of the 4th inst. received. My niece will not
consider giving you a divorce. I do not believe in divorce
and neither does my niece and she will not consider
giving you one. And I can inform you now that you
will not be able to get one yourself, for you have not
got any grounds for a divorce because our Heavenly
Father knows there was never a purer sweeter more duti-
ful girl and you have no complaint and you drove her
from your house like a dog. Also I can tell you too that